How It All Began
by VickyVicarious
Summary: Just *how* did Shawn and Gus begin playing Gay Chicken Dare, anyway?


This story is a prelude/companion piece for my other story, _Gay Chicken Dare_, kind-of explaining how it came to be. I recommend you read that immediately before/after this one. Otherwise... Um, yeah, it involves a game called **Gay Chicken Dare**. So a slash warning is kinda redundant, huh?

-.-.-

The game was invented when they were twenty-one and Shawn had dropped in to visit Gus at his dorm unexpectedly. He'd dragged Gus out to a bar, and even though he had a 8:00 class the next day, Gus went without (much) protest, because he hadn't seen Shawn in a year and a half.

It started with Shawn regaling Gus with stories from his travels, telling him all about the candy shop he'd worked in briefly ("It was so beautiful, dude, but you wouldn't _believe_ what a tightass Freddy was about not eating the merchandise"), and Gus responding with stories about college ("And then he actually _ran_ across the cafeteria, right past the professor who he'd told he'd broken his leg").

And somehow, by the third or fourth, or maybe sixth – probably not seventh, but then again Shawn was always good at getting Gus to drink more than he thought he was, that was how Mexico had happened – round of drinks, Shawn and Gus were playing some twisted version of Truth or Dare, which basically consisted of daring each other to go hit on various hot chicks.

It didn't work so well since they were so drunk no one would talk to them, let alone dance, and eventually Gus called it quits and they staggered back to his dorm, falling down next to each other on Gus's bed, Gus too drunk and sleepy to make Shawn go away or take the floor or even get his head off his chest.

The next morning, Gus was rolling out of bed and rushing off to class on an empty stomach, with a pounding headache, and when he got back to his dorm, it was to find Shawn missing, with a note on the (unmade) bed: _Dude, great reunion. I'm heading up north for this festival thing that Mark said was going on this time of year, but I'll be back in two weeks, so hang tight! I know you miss me – Shawn_

Gus had no idea who Mark was or what kind of festival would be occurring in northern California in November, but he decided not to question it, and instead checked and arranged his schedule so that he'd have free time when Shawn arrived.

--

Of course, 'two weeks' turned out to be nearly two months, and Shawn finally arrived back in town (and on Gus's doorstep) on New Year's Eve, grinning and wearing a pair of 1999 sunglasses.

Gus had, oddly enough, expected it, and accepted his own pair of glasses with a weary smile, but greeted Shawn with a tight hug.

They went out to the same bar as last time, and this time it took only two rounds (Gus was positive this time, he'd been watching the glasses very carefully) before they were playing Pick-Up Chicken Dare, which was a name they both thought was pretty cool at the time. The game got more and more fun as time went on, but it was around the sixth round and the count-down was just starting, when Shawn's face lit up.

It was his turn to dare Gus, and the college student was understandably terrified that Shawn might make him do – he didn't even know _what_, but it would be mortifying. But Gus just asked, deceptively calmly (and maybe slurring his words a little) "What's the dare, then?"

Shawn was grinning and laughing, and the count-down was on – _10, 9_ – as he said, "I dare you to kiss a guy when the clock hits zero."

Gus nodded amiably; that was nowhere near as bad as he'd feared. "Sure, okay – wait, a _guy?!_"

_7, 6 _– Shawn nodded, grin splitting his face. "If you don't do it, you're a chicken, Gus."

Gus was just drunk enough for that to seem like a terrible fate, but – "A _guy?_ This isn't _Gay_ Chicken Dare, Shawn, it's Pick-Up Chicken Dare!"

Shawn's eyes lit up more, if that was physically possible. _4, 3_ – "That is such an awesome title, Gus, you're a genius." Gus opened his mouth to say something, but then Shawn added, "A _chicken_ genius, that is!"

_2, 1_ – Gus desperately reached out, grabbed Shawn's shirt, and yanked him forward into a kiss. It was mouths open and sloppy, tongues meeting for a few brief, drunken, enjoyable moments, and only Gus's eyes were closed, but that was just because he didn't really want to know what express Shawn might have the moment.

The kiss went on a little bit longer - _-10, -11_ – but it was _probably_ under twelve seconds into the New Year, and it was a dare, so it wasn't like it was either of their fault.

They stared at each other for a long, long time, before Gus hesitantly offered up this explanation, and Shawn nodded. Then they stared a little more, mostly at each other's lips in shocked silence, before Shawn turned and ordered them both another beer.

Somewhere on the walk home, stumbling and laughing uproariously at things like cats jumping onto fences and tripping on their own feet, they agreed that Gay Chicken Dare was an awesome ("Really, _really_, really awesome, man." "Yeah, f'shure…") game and that they should play it more often.

--

They never dare each other to do anything to the other one again, and none of them ever beat Gus's record or the first ever Gay Chicken Dare, which of course are the same thing, but it's still fun.

They don't play in December, either, but they do play before they reach the sixth round; sometimes they're almost completely sober.

And when they start making it an annual tradition to play Gay Chicken Dare on New Year's Eve, it doesn't mean anything, because they never make dares during those ten seconds. They go separate ways and each kiss a pretty girl, then – definitely past the 12-second mark – they meet up at the bar and resume the game.


End file.
